


First We Were Two

by frecklesarechocolate



Series: An Encumbered Life Becomes The Only Thing [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Cute, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a prequel to And Now We Are Three. Posting now because there are things that I'll need to refer to in ANWAT that need to be addressed here, so, yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. Still looking for any help I can get.
> 
> Also, I realize that most of this really is out of character, mostly for Dean, and some some for Cas, but I am watching season 7 right now, and really, really want something good for my babies, so that's where this is coming from.

For as long as he could remember, Dean wanted a normal family. He wanted to have a house, two parents, Sammy, quiet and above all, normal-ness. He wanted to know that at the end of the day when he came home, that not only was there a home to go to, but that it would be the same place he had been the night before, and the night before that and so on for ever and ever.

But he didn't get that growing up. And he's okay with that.

Well, not really. But it's not like he can go back and change it. So he has to be okay with it.

But now? Now he has the chance to do that for himself as an adult, to have a family, to have a home that he can go to night after night and to maybe, just maybe have some normality.

Well, sure. As normal as you can get when the love of your life is an Angel of the Lord, and you've been hunting demons since you were like 12, and your gigantor of a brother has demon blood and once spent the better part of a year without a soul. You know, that kind of normal.

So when Castiel came to him one day and sat him down and said he had something he wanted to talk to Dean about, something serious, Dean could be forgiven if his heart fluttered just a little bit and he maybe, just maybe, had girly thoughts about happily ever after.

Not that he would admit to it or anything.

Of course Dean said that he had time to talk to Cas. Of course Dean was excited. Of course Dean was going to keep that last bit of information very much to himself, thank you very, very much.

Which is how they found themselves eating a picnic dinner together by a lake on the outskirts of whichever town they were in that week. Dean wasn't even sure, since Cas had asked to have this talk about a week ago, and that's all Dean had really been able to concentrate on. Luckily they were here for a simple salt and burn, one that really didn't need his attention, otherwise he would have done something incredibly stupid that might have gotten himself or Cas or Sammy killed.

But Cas had gotten a picnic blanket, and a basket, and a six pack of beer. The blanket had red and white checks, for crying out loud, and the picnic basket was made of wicker. It was as if Cas had Googled "stereotypical romantic picnic" and then pulled out all the stops to make sure that everything was just right.

Except that instead of fried chicken and potato salad, there were burgers, fries and there was blueberry pie. Blueberry. Pie. And Cas was definitely using his angel mojo to keep the burgers warm and the fries crisp, because Cas was awesome like that.

"Unf. Cas, this is amazing." Dean eyed the pie, wondering if he could finish a second piece of it. After two burgers. And an obscene amount of fries. Cas smiled at him and used his thumb to wipe some blueberry off his face. He licked it off his thumb, gazing at Dean as he did so.

Dean cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. "So, um. What'd you want to talk about?" Yeah, he was cool. He didn't sound eager at all. Not. At. All.

Cas busied himself with clearing away the plastic plates, forks and knives, and covered the pie. Dean, in an attempt to get Cas to move things along, helped out, something that earned him a raised eyebrow from the angel. Dean rarely cleaned up if he didn't have to, although Cas almost never used the human way of cleaning up.

Finally, Cas seemed ready to talk. He sat cross-legged on the blanket, facing Dean, who unconsciously mimicked the angel's posture. "Dean." Nothing else, just his name.

This was going to kill Dean. He was going to die before he found out what Cas wanted to talk to him about. He was sure of it. "Cas?"

"Dean, I've been thinking about our future and I wanted to ask you something." Rather than interrupt the angel's momentum, Dean just nodded, hoping that would prompt Cas to continue. After a moment, Cas said, "I want us to settle down. In a house."

Dean nodded. Not exactly what he had been imagining, although he figured that if there was ever going to be marriage or anything (not that he had thought about that, because, really, how much of a girl do you think he is?) that he would be the one to ask (maybe he had thought about it a little bit. Shut up). So, okay, settling down in a house together, he could do that.

"That sounds really nice, Cas," was all Dean said. And he meant it. It really did sound nice.

"There's more." Cas said. He threaded his fingers through Dean's. Dean raised an eyebrow, but just waited. He figured that if it was taking Cas this long to get whatever it was out, that it was something that was kind of big, and he should let Cas take his time.

Cas took a deep breath, and kept his eyes focused on their hands as they held onto each other. "We should stop hunting." Fairly long pause. "I think we should have a child."

So yeah, that was definitely kind of big. Dean was not expecting that at all. "A kid? Us? Um, can angels do that? Because I don't know about you Cas, but I don't have the right anatomy to have one myself. We'd kind of need a girl, and Sam isn't girl enough." He’d slipped into defense mode, which apparently involved insulting Sam, even if Sam wasn't around.

Castiel huffed out a great sigh, the sound of someone who was long-suffering, but still willing to put up with whomever it was that had caused the sigh in the first place. "We would have to arrange for a surrogate, I believe is the term. One of us would be the father. Well, both of us would be the child's father, but one of us would be the one who would..." Cas trailed off, seemingly at a loss for how to explain or describe what he was thinking.

"Donate his little swimmers?" Dean asked, and then immediately wanted to slap himself on the head. Because if Cas was having a hard enough time saying what he wanted using the proper terminology (and Cas knew the proper terminology, Dean had no doubts about that), then using crude slang was probably going to fluster Cas even more.

However, Cas merely nodded, which surprised the hell out of Dean. "That is another way to put it, yes." Dean must have been gaping like a fish out of water, because Cas just smiled tightly. "I did my research. I knew this would be a difficult conversation, so I read up on all of the euphemisms you might use. I want to make sure that we understand each other clearly."

"Oh-kay." Dean rubbed his face with his free hand. "Listen, Cas, I ..." Dean sighed. "Yes, I think we should move in together. Okay, maybe we should give up hunting. But, have a kid? How is this not the craziest idea you have ever had?"

"It may be one of my more outlandish ideas, but I do not think that it could be considered crazy. First of all, you and I love each other." He began to hold up his fingers, enumerating each of his points. "Second, you have always wanted a family. Third, I have begun to realize that I would like one too. Fourth, I cannot think of anyone else who would make a better father for our child than you."

It was Dean's turn to drop his gaze to their clasped hands. His face burned a bit in embarrassment, for they had never really been this open and honest with each other, and Dean had never really spoken about his feelings for Cas out loud. He always just assumed that Cas knew, and that it didn't need to be said. Clearly, he was right, but still, hearing it out loud like that made it more, well, real. Plus, Cas had said “our child”. The collective possessive pronoun did weird things to Dean’s heart: it was fluttering like a hummingbird, and his collar felt too tight around his neck.

"Uh, Cas, I don't think...No, I know. I would not make a good father. Look how much I screw up relationships! Look how badly I screwed up with Ben! With Lisa!" He tried to tug his hand out of Castiel's, but the angel would not let go. Cas gently took Dean's chin between the fingers of his free hand and lifted it so Dean was forced to look Cas in the eyes.

"Dean, I know that you think you don't deserve to have good things in your life, to be happy. But you do. And so far, you have not screwed this up," Cas said. He gazed at Dean, daring Dean to contradict him.

"Because you won't give up on me. One day, I will absolutely screw this up. And if there's a kid, well, not only will I hurt you, but I'll hurt them too. I don't ever want a child of mine to look at me the way Ben did. So...I have to say..." he swallowed. "No. I can't do it Cas." Dean's voice broke a little as he stumbled over the enormous lump in his throat because he knew that by saying no to this he was ensuring that he would screw up what he had with Cas now, instead of at some point in the unforeseeable future. He tried to pull away from Cas, but the angel's grip on him was still too tight. "I'm sorry," Dean whispered.

Cas tilted his head. He kept his eyes on Dean, and was silent for a very long time. It was one of Cas’s patented stares; soulful gazing, really. Dean wondered whether he should say something, whether he should break the silence, but something prevented him from doing so. Finally, Cas nodded slightly. "I will wait until you change your mind." He leaned into Dean and kissed him, effectively cutting off any further protests. Each time Dean opened his mouth to say something, Cas either kissed Dean again, or put his finger to Dean's lips. Dean gave up after a few attempts, and they packed up the rest of the picnic and headed back to the motel in silence.

Before they went back inside the room that Dean shared with Sam, Cas stopped Dean with a warm hand on his shoulder. "You will see that I am right, Dean." And with that, Cas was gone. Dean slumped his shoulders and unlocked the door.

Sam, of course, was on Dean the second he was in the room, wanting to know what Cas had wanted, what they had talked about, but Dean said nothing. He waved his hand at Sam, hoping to shut him up. It worked amazingly well, although it may have been as much for the look on Dean's face as anything else. Whatever the reason, Dean was glad that Sam didn't pester him any further.

Dean took a long, hot shower, not caring that he was using up all the hot water. Sam could wait until morning. While the shower made him feel cleaner, all it really served to do was bring more raw emotions to the surface. Finally, Dean shut off the shower with an irritated snap of his wrist. He put on his pajamas and clambered into bed, ignoring bitch face #13 from Sam, the one that said "It's not even 10 o'clock, why are you getting into bed?".

It took Dean a very long time to fall to sleep.


	2. Outlandish? Maybe. Bad Idea? Definitely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's issues come to the surface.

To Dean’s surprise, the next time he saw Cas, Cas did not bring up the subject of having a child again. Dean thought that perhaps Cas would find some way of bringing the subject up at every opportunity to try to convince Dean that it was the right thing to do. But Cas didn’t bring it up the next day, or even any of the following weeks.

It wasn’t as if Dean hadn’t thought about it over the intervening days, because he really had. In fact, it was just about all he had been thinking about since Cas asked. He was so torn about the whole thing, torn in so many directions.

He was willing to give up hunting, because frankly, he was tired. Exhausted, really. His body ached, and the … not joy exactly, but enthusiasm with which he had hunted in the past was gone. He no longer got the rush from ganking a demon or getting rid of a ghost. And the more weird shit he saw, the less impressed he was. In fact, he hadn’t seen anything new in the last year or so. He had seen so much that anything that he saw now was just a variation of the same old same old. Lather, rinse, repeat. And wow, he never thought he’d feel that way about hunting. Because who would have thought that anyone would ever see just about everything there was to see about the supernatural? Not Dean Winchester, that’s for sure.

So Dean could give up hunting. Especially if it meant getting to live with Cas in relative peace for a while. He thought that he might get bored at some point, but he was willing to give it a shot for a while. For a very long while.

But the other thing? The kid? Every time he thought about it, he found it hard to breathe. The idea of a small, helpless creature, a little boy, or, god help him, a little girl, dependent on him for their every need? For its safety? For its emotional and physical well being? And what about money? The expense alone gave him pause. He had never had a legitimate source of income in his entire life. Cas was an angel for Christ’s sake. It wasn’t like Cas was going to go and get a regular 9 to 5 job, was he? How could they afford to have a child? How could they protect him?

There were oh so many reasons why Cas’s idea had traveled into the territory that was far beyond just “a bad idea”. This was the worst idea ever.

And yet.

There was a not-very-small part of him that wanted what Cas wanted. Not just because it was what Cas wanted, although that was part of it, but also because he wanted to feel the weight of a baby in his arms again. Because he wanted to hold a tiny head in the palm of his hand and brush his lips across the crown of that head. He remembered what it had felt like to cradle the shape shifter baby, Bobby John, in his arms. The warm weight, the way Bobby John collapsed into Dean with complete trust. Deep down underneath Dean’s gruff exterior was someone who had so much love to give and craved so much in return.

Dean could maybe admit that to Cas. He could maybe admit it to himself.

But the fear that he would fuck up was still there. Because somehow, he _always_ fucked up. _Always_. He fucked up with Sammy (see demon blood addiction, dead Sam, Sam locked in the box with Michael and Lucifer, soul-less Sam, the list went on and on and on…). He’d fucked up with Ben and Lisa, big time. He had fucked up with Cas, and it was only Cas’s stubborn streak that kept the angel from leaving Dean in disgust.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed in the motel room and hung his head, his elbows resting on his knees. He was thinking himself in circles here. He wanted a child, he didn’t, he couldn’t have one, but then he was back to wanting one again.

Forget the mechanics of it, his biggest concern was about the inevitable fucking up that Dean would do at some point in the future.

Because it would happen.

There was absolutely nothing in his past experience to suggest otherwise.

It was, of course, at precisely this moment that Cas chose to appear. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked up at Cas, and a small smile brushed at the corner of his lips. He was happy to see Cas. He was always happy to see Cas. The presence of Cas in his life filled an ache that he hadn’t really known was there until he’d realized that Cas had managed to squeeze himself into it.

“Hi, Cas.”

Cas sat down next to Dean, his shoulder rubbing against Dean’s, but he didn’t say anything. They sat in companionable silence for a long while, until Dean looked at the angel. “Did you want something, Cas?”

Cas smiled. “I thought you might want some company.” There was a ghost of a shrug from his shoulder.

“Just company?” Dean could not keep the skepticism out of his voice.

“Just company,” Cas replied.

“That’s not really something you do, Cas.”

A huff of laughter escaped from Cas. “It doesn’t really fit with our current lifestyle, does it? Keeping each other company.”

Dean shook his head. “No.”

“It could.”

“I already said yes to that, Cas.”

Cas nodded, a matter of fact movement of his head, as if this was something he had expected to hear. “Yes. You did.”

The conversation ground to a halt. Dean wondered if Cas was going to leave it at that, but he should have known better. Because now it seemed like Cas wanted to bring it up again. Although in all fairness, Dean had kind of brought it up first.

“You should understand, Dean, that I wish to have everything. You. The house. The quiet life. Our child.” He paused momentarily, but before Dean could respond, Cas rushed ahead. “I do not want just part of that. I will not settle for less. And neither should you.” Cas brushed Dean’s cheek with the backs of his fingers, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. “You deserve this,” Cas whispered.

“You’re being incredibly unfair, Cas.”

Cas nodded again, infuriatingly imperturbable. “Yes. I am. I will fight for this, for us, Dean. You will see that I am right.”

Dean let loose a soft groan and rested his head on Cas’s shoulder. “I can’t do it, Cas. I can’t. Just. Can’t.” He was whispering, but his voice had taken on a panicked quality to it.

Sensing that he was pushing too hard, Cas did not reply at all, except to wrap his arms around Dean and cuddle him closer. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s head, and rocked slowly back and forth.

Perhaps the fact that Dean was thinking about it at all was enough for now. Perhaps.


	3. Before You Were...I Was Unsure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thinks about it.

"You’re being incredibly unfair, Cas."

The more this rang in Cas's mind, the more it bothered him. Dean was right. Cas not being fair, was not respecting boundaries (Cas had difficulty with boundaries). He was pressuring Dean into having a family, and it wasn't fair. Not at all.

But Cas also knew, the way he knew Dean's soul, Cas knew that this was the right choice for Dean, just as he knew it was the right choice for himself.

Dean would be an amazing father. He had practically raised Sam, and Sam's problems had nothing to do with anything Dean had or had not done. In fact, Dean should be given an award for how well Sam turned out despite all that he had stacked against him.

Cas was pretty sure that Dean wouldn't see it that way.

So how could he convince Dean that this was right? He wanted Dean to see how right it would be, but he also knew that the harder he pushed Dean, the more Dean would resist. Cas loved and hated how stubborn Dean was. Dean could stand up for what he believed in. He could stand toe-to-toe with some of the biggest and scariest monsters and tell them off (heedless of the great risk to himself). But Dean could also refuse to back down when it was obvious that there was no way to survive, that his choices would hurt hundreds of people.

Or just one. 

Dean, the Righteous man.

Dean, the Stubborn man.

Dean, the Infuriating man.

His Dean.

His beautiful Dean.

Cas considered. He realized that in actuality, telling Dean that he wanted the whole package, and not just parts of it - the implied threat was an empty one. He would never leave Dean. He _could_ never leave Dean. Deep down, Dean probably knew this, but maybe not enough to recognize it consciously.

Cas reflected on Dean's complex nature, on the complex, puzzling nature of all humans. They were driven by instinct, by ambition, by curiosity, and all that drove them could also hold them back. They very thing that made Dean the perfect candidate for fatherhood was the very thing that was preventing him from making that choice for himself.

Cas stretched and sighed, feeling relief as the blood flowed throughout his vessel. He had been standing preternaturally still as only angels can (and humans cannot), and while most of the time, Cas could suppress the vessel's biological urges, he found that the more he indulged his desire for Dean, the more difficult it was to ignore the vessel's other urges. Cas found that he didn't particularly mind.

                                                            ~~~

"Dean." No response. "Dean!" A little louder, but still no response. Sam grumbled and unfolded himself from the couch. He waved his hand in front of Dean's vacant stare. "Hey! Dean! Are you in there?"

Dean's eyes regained some of their focus as he started and looked up at his younger brother. "What?" he snapped.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? You've been...weird all day," Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing. I'm fine." He went to the mini fridge and grabbed a beer.

"Uh huh. That is definitely the look of someone who is 'fine'." Sam sat back on the couch and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No, I do not," Dean said. "And I said I was fine." 

Sam smiled. "Which is it? Are you fine, or do you not want to talk about it?"

Dean's face contorted into several different emotions at once. Sheepish, annoyed, fondness...it was as if he couldn't settle on one. "Bitch."

"Jerk. Seriously though. You've been distracted for weeks now, you're staring off into space, and I have to repeat things like twelve times before you answer me. What's the deal?"

Dean sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. This was not really a conversation he wanted to have with Sam. "I don't want to talk about it."

Sam let out a small sound of triumph and fist-pumped in the air. "I knew there was something. C'mon, Dean, tell me. It'll make you feel better."

"Contrary to popular belief, Ann Landers, I do not enjoy talking about my feelings and problems." Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and took a large swig of his beer.

Sam decided it was time to break out the big guns. He just looked at Dean. Looked at him, and he unleashed his greatest weapon: the puppy eyes.

"Oh man, Sam, don't do that." Dean said, his face scrunching in irritation. "C'mon man."

Sam waited. He could be patient. After several long moments, Dean heaved a great sigh and threw up his arms in defeat. "FINE. FINE. Just remember, you ASKED."

So Dean told Sam. And to Sam's credit, he just listened, and didn't make any comments, snarky or otherwise, until Dean was finished.

"Wow. That's big," Sam said.

"Yeah, big. That's one word for it." Dean considered getting another beer, but then decided that he was too comfortable where he was.

"Are you really going to stop hunting?" Sam decided to tackle the smallest of the issues first.

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think so. I mean, I'll still do some, I think, just not, you know, all the time, like this. I'm tired, Sam. Tired of running around after monsters and I'm really fucking tired of being thrown around. I've probably broken most of the bones in my body at least once, and so yeah, I think I'm kind of done."

Sam nodded, making a small humming noise of agreement. He knew where Dean was coming from on this one; Dean had been hunting for longer than Sam had, so Sam totally got it. He could admit to a little disappointment, because there was a small part of him (OK, maybe not that small) that thought that they would just keep on doing this. It had become his life, and he wasn't sure what he would do if it changed. But Dean was right, and Dean needed to think about Dean for once.

"I can't believe Cas wants a kid," Sam said after a long heavy silence.

Dean looked up at that, surprised. "Oh, I can. Come on, the guy would bring home stray kittens and puppies if he could."

Sam laughed softly at this, because it was true. Cas had a soft spot for things that needed protecting. Sam reflected that this included Dean. Dean would HATE the thought of this, so Sam wisely did not say what he was thinking. Instead, he said, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

Sam resisted the urge to throw something at Dean. "Do you want a kid?"

Dean scowled. "No. Yes. No!" He growled in frustration. "It's such a bad idea, Sammy. The worst. I can't do it. Yes, I want a family, but every time I try to have something good, something that is for me, either I fuck it up, or something else fucks it up for me. I can't do that to some kid. I can't bring some kid into the world knowing that it will blow up in my face at any moment. That's not fair to the kid."

Sam was shaking his head before Dean had even finished. "Maybe this time will be different."

"Sam. Good stuff does NOT happen to us. You know this better than anyone."

"Dean." Sam stopped and licked his lips. He wanted to find the right way to say this, the way to get through Dean's thick skull that this could be okay, that it would be okay. He chose his words carefully. "Dean, good stuff DIDN'T happen to us. Good stuff COULD happen to us. How can you feel such despair about your future?"

"Sam, it's not despair. I'm being realistic. I have no reason to expect good things from my future, so there's no sense in hoping for them. That way I won't be disappointed when the next 'fuck you' comes along. I think that's being reasonable," said Dean.

A part of Sam's heart broke as he listened to his brother, realizing that this explained so much about just about every aspect of Dean's behavior. He worked so hard to keep others - Sam, Cas, Bobby - safe, with almost no regard for his own safety or well being. He lived like a hedonist, as if the next moment would be his last, so he might as well enjoy whatever it was that he was doing at that moment. It made sense for someone who didn't expect to live until his fortieth birthday, and it sucked. Sam felt white-hot anger course through him as he thought about this. If there was ever any one on this planet that deserved something good, it was Dean.

"You know you would be an amazing father, right?" Sam said.

Dean just snorted. Ben's face flitted through his mind.

"No, I'm serious. You were there for me more than Dad was, and you were great. Better than great." Sam studiously ignored Dean's 'quit being such a girl' face. "Any kid would be lucky to have you as his dad. And with Cas...your family would be awesome." Sam's voice became an awed whisper as he considered it. "I mean it, Dean. You and Cas as parents? Your kid would be the most loved, well cared for kid in the world. Not to mention having an awesome uncle."

Dean stared at Sam, speechless. No way could Sam mean this. This was beyond girly, even for Sam. "Dude." He stopped, because he wasn't even sure what part of what Sam had just said he should focus on first. He gave up even trying, and just shook his head. He decided that he definitely needed another beer, so he grabbed another one, handing Sam one as well.

Sam cleared his throat, realizing that perhaps the conversation had gone into chick-flick territory again. "I know it's huge, dude. But any kid would be lucky to have you as their dad. You should really seriously consider it. Everyone who wants to be a parent is nervous about it. Give yourself a chance. And if you're worried about Cas, don't be. He will never leave you."

Dean smiled at this. "That much I know. Feather-head doesn't know when to quit." He nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay, I'll think about it. You and Cas are wrong, but I will think about it."


	4. The Buried Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean doesn't think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from a poem with the same name by Matthew Arnold.

Rather than thinking about it, though, Dean dreamt about it. At first, he didn't know he was dreaming about it. He would wake in the morning with a sense of contentment, warmth and happiness, and it was at first quite disconcerting, because he probably hadn't felt that way since he was about 4 years old. He didn't think much on it, presuming that he felt this way because he had finally, _finally_ managed to get a decent night's sleep.

But then he started to remember the dreams, and when he awoke from them, he would lie quietly in bed, trying his hardest not to disturb Cas as he basked in the memory of the dreams.

There was rarely more than the sense of peace that accompanied the dreams, but when there was, the feeling was accompanied by the warm weight of a small, sleeping body lying in his arms, and the reassuring presence of Cas at his side.

It almost never varied, and upon waking, he, for once in his life, felt whole.

So he would lie in bed, and one side of his mind would rifle through each and every bad memory that Dean had (it was quite an extensive set of files, one that apparently needed a building the size of the Pentagon to contain them). The memories would be presented to Dean like evidence in a trial. Exhibit A, when Dean left Sammy alone for too long in the motel, and some creature almost got in and attacked. Exhibit B, when Dean shoved Ben and nearly attacked Lisa. Exhibit C, Sam, dead from a stab wound. Exhibit D, Bobby Singer, lying on a hospital bed, Exhibit D, Emma's dead body lying on the floor the wound from Sammy’s gun spurting blood, Exhibit E, Sammy's mouth, filled with demon blood, Exhibit F, Sammy and Adam jumping into the cage, Exhibit G, Cas walking into the river, his trench coat washing up on the shore moments later...it went on and on and on.

But then the other side of Dean's mind would bring back the feelings from the dream: the baby cuddled in his arms as it slept, Cas at his side as they watched. Warmth. Safety. Peace. The sense of being loved and loving those that loved him.

And each morning, the feelings from the dreams seemed to be just a little bit stronger than all of the horrible, terrible memories of his failures, and Dean began to do something that he had probably never done at all in his lifetime, not once.

Dean began to have hope.

Hope that maybe this was something he could do, that they could do, he and Cas. That maybe he could have something good in his life, or rather, something else that was good in his life.

Because really, Dean should admit to himself that for the last year or so, since he and Cas had finally realized how much they cared for -- dammit, no, loved -- each other, Dean had already had one good thing. One very, very good thing in his life that seemed to only being continuing in the general direction of good.

It was on a cool, bright Wednesday morning that Dean woke up to the strongest feeling of joy and hope that he had felt in a long while. He opened his eyes, and there was a small smile on his face, and he just stayed where he was, lying on his back, enjoying the feeling.

"You're practically vibrating with energy," Cas said after about twenty minutes. "What is it?" He rolled over on his side to look at Dean. When Dean turned his head to look at Cas, blue eyes widened as they took in the smile. He inhaled slowly. "What?"

Rather than answer, Dean leaned in to Cas and kissed him, slow and deep. Cas made a startled sound and then relaxed into the kiss, feeling the curl of desire work its way through his body. When Dean pulled away, Cas searched his face, expecting to see lust blown eyes, expecting that Dean would be all over him in a minute, but that’s not what he saw.

He couldn’t actually define what he saw, because it was not something he thought he’d ever seen in Dean’s eyes. Something niggled at the corner of his mind, as if it reminded him of something, but it was just at the edges of his consciousness, and he couldn’t quite grasp it. Just when he thought he had it, it fluttered out of reach, and so he just tilted his head and gazed back at Dean. “What?” he asked again.

“Yes.” Dean smiled then, a full, brilliant smile that lit up his face, one that was all teeth and eye crinkles and sparkles in his eyes and Dean would probably punch something if Cas even mentioned any of this to anyone outside the room, especially Sammy.

“Yes…? Yes, what?” Cas asked, not daring to breathe, hoping that he was actually awake, that he was here, that this was real, and not something hallucinatory.

“Yes. Yes to the house. Yes to you, yes to having a kid.” Dean licked his lips, suddenly nervous, suddenly wondering if maybe he’d waited too long, if he’d missed his chance –

But before he could even finish the thought, Cas was in his arms, kissing him for all he was worth and then some, grasping the back of his neck, and just squeezing him so tightly.

He pulled away for a moment to ask, “Yes? Really? Yes?” and Dean just nodded, and they were both laughing, kissing and smiling and maybe they were also both crying, but Dean would never tell anyone about it.

“Dean,” Cas said after they’d calmed down a bit. “Thank –“

Dean put his finger on Cas’s lips. “Shh,” he said. “You don’t need to thank me. I want this. I want this for me as well as for you, so there’s nothing to thank me for, ok?”

Cas nodded. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Dean replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking the next steps, and having some decisions taken out of their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst with a side of angst.

Once Dean said yes, it was as if someone had flipped a switch in Castiel. He became a drill sergeant, ordering Dean from one appointment to the next: realtors, doctors, lawyers, it was dizzying. At first, Dean was not just flabbergasted, but also a little bit terrified, but then he decided it would be better in the end to just sit back and enjoy the ride. Cas had put his heart and Grace into this idea of his, this hope of theirs that Dean knew he couldn't stop the angel, even if he'd wanted to.

They decided on where they wanted to live (they went with Iowa, mostly because of the marriage laws there, although they hadn't said anything about that step yet) and then spent weeks tracking down the perfect town. Part of Cas's mission was to find a town that would be a safe, friendly place for them to live, but also one that would have good schools. The fact that this hadn't even occurred to Dean gave him a small panic attack, because what else had Dean not considered? But Cas just smiled fondly at Dean and kissed him until he couldn't breathe for other reasons besides panic. Cas said that it was their job to think of the things that the other didn't think of, and that was part of the partnership. 

Then they visited house after house after house until they found a small one to rent. It had two bedrooms on the second floor, one small bathroom, and a decent sized living room overlooking an enormous backyard. The front yard was about the size of a postage stamp, and there was an eat-in kitchen that was large enough to house an island as well. There was a garage, which was a plus for Dean - how better to protect his baby than by giving her her very own space? The rent was amazingly cheap, which meant that there was a lot of work to be done, both in the yard and on the house itself, but Dean actually found that he was looking forward to the prospect.

They moved in September, pulling up to the house in the Impala, and pulling their worldly goods out of the trunk of the car. Sam was with them, and they inaugurated the house by eating burgers and drinking beer on the floor of the small dining room that was off the kitchen.

"You guys are going to need some furniture," Sam said.

"Yeah, we're going to hit some places tomorrow, I think," Dean said. The only furniture they'd bothered purchasing before they moved was a mattress and box spring set, which was upstairs in the front bedroom, already made with the most comfortable sheets Dean could find. He had decided that he was finished with scratchy motel sheets and smelly bedcovers, and that the place where he and Cas were going to lay their heads for the foreseeable future would be the most comfortable he could make it. So he'd gone to Bed, Bath and Beyond and essentially felt up every set of sheets he could get his hands on, and then purchased something with the highest thread count in the place (1000 thread count - who knew such a thing existed?). Then he'd bought half a dozen pillows and a quilt that was a rich, dark chocolate brown, something that made him think of fudge syrup on a sundae. It had been incredibly expensive, but totally worth it. He couldn't wait to snuggle up to Cas in it.

Once they'd found the house and moved in, they divided their time between meeting with lawyers and doctors and Dean also went looking for work. He'd been able to find a job working as a mechanic in a town not far from theirs, so they at least had some income. "Your first couple of paychecks are going to have to go to pay for that bed, Dean," Cas had said, but Dean knew that Cas was teasing. It was incredibly difficult to force Cas out of the bed in the mornings, and Dean had to admit that he had several mornings where he was perfectly content to lie on the soft sheets in Cas's arms in a half-asleep state.

He was happy, and it was not at all weird. And the other amazing thing was that it felt right. With Lisa, it had felt odd, difficult, like he had to work to be something that he wasn't, but this...well, this was something else entirely.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

The legal aspects of the prospect of them having a child were relatively simple in the end. Whoever did not father the child would adopt it, and the child would be theirs biologically and legally.

The medical stuff? That's what tripped them up.

Even though they hadn't discussed it openly, both Dean and Cas had understood that Dean would be the child's biological father. There wasn't any particular rhyme or reason to that belief, that's just kind of the way things went. When they made doctor's appointments, they were all for Dean, to begin with. They had chosen their surrogate (a lovely young woman named Abigail), and all Dean needed to do was have a few tests to make sure that everything was good to go, and then they could get the show on the road, or rather, the doctors could.

As far as Dean and Cas were concerned it was all systems go.

Monday afternoon, Dean's cell phone rang. "Mr. Winchester?"

"Yeah?" Dean said.

"Mr. Dean Winchester?" the voice said.

"Yeah, you got him." Dean shot a look at Cas and shrugged his shoulders.

"Mr. Winchester, this is Sylvia, the assistant from Dr. Monroe's office. We've tested your sample, and Dr. Monroe would like you and your partner, Castiel? To come in and meet with him. Dr. Monroe has an opening tomorrow morning at 9am. Would that work for you?"

"Um, yes? I think so. Yeah," Dean said. "Hang on." Dean covered the mouthpiece of the phone and looked at Cas. "They want us to come in tomorrow morning."

Cas frowned but nodded. "Yes, we can do that."

Dean told the assistant that they would be able to make the appointment, and hung up. "What's this about, do you think?"

"I don't know, Dean. We'll just have to wait and see." And while of course, Cas was right, that didn't stop Dean from having the first sleepless night he'd had in two months. Finally, Cas rolled over and pulled Dean into his arms, squeezing him tight. "There is no use worrying over something that we can't and don't know about yet. Just go to sleep."

Dean grunted, but did his best to do just that, and was finally able to fall into a fitful doze close to dawn.

Which left him gritty-eyed and cranky by the time they got to the doctor's office, fifteen minutes before their appointed time. The waiting room was not crowded, just a one or two couples already seated in the chairs. One couple, a petite brunette and her incredibly tall husband, looked up and smiled at Dean and Cas when they came in and sat down next to them. It helped settle Dean's nervous stomach a little bit, and they chatted amiably until they were called to go and see the doctor.

"Mr. Winchester?" the nurse said from the doorway. Dean and Cas stood up and smiled their goodbyes at the couple, following the nurse into the doctor's office. Instead of being led into an examination room, they were brought back to an actual office, with a desk covered in papers and diplomas and awards plastered all over the walls.

"The doctor will be right in. Have a seat."

Dean and Cas sat uneasily in the two chairs facing the doctor's desk and did their best not to look like they wanted to bolt from the office as fast as possible.

Thankfully, the doctor did not make them wait too long, and the young doctor who opened the door greeted them warmly. He was probably a little bit younger than Dean, which had at first, made Dean really uncomfortable, since in his experience, doctors were white-haired and old, but this young man had a pleasant manner that put both Dean and Cas at ease quickly. They actually liked the doctor and enjoyed working with him.

"Dean! Cas, thanks for coming in." The doctor settled himself behind the desk and pushed aside a few piles of folders until he picked up one that had a sticker on the tab that had the letters WIN. He opened it up and placed it on the desk before him, clasping his hands on top. He did not actually consult the folder, but instead looked straight at Dean. "I'll get right to the point. We took a look at your sample, and found that while your overall sperm motility is fine, your count is low, in fact, it's very low."

Dean looked at the doctor and decided that maybe he didn't like the guy after all. "Doc, can you give that to me in English, please?"

Dr. Monroe nodded matter-of-factly. "Basically, in order for you to be able to get your surrogate, Abigail, pregnant, you have to have three things: quantity, quality and movement. You need to have a certain amount, they need to be healthy, and they need to be able to get into the egg. Unfortunately, your sperm counts are low and those that you do have are not healthy enough to fertilize any of Abigail's eggs." While the doctor's face showed sorrow, he seemed to know Dean well enough not to apologize for it.

"So you're saying that ... that what, I can't have a kid? Because, um...well, I uh, I did," Dean said after a few moments of stunned silence. Cas clasped Dean's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Dr. Monroe glanced down at the folder now, and nodded. "Emma, right? You said that was a couple of years ago? Is she healthy?"

Dean stared down at his hand in Cas's and shook his head. "She...she died. Uh, she was killed." He was surprised at how difficult it was to share this information, given that he really had only met her once, and she had been trying to kill him at the time, however, there was still something about the entire experience, the realization that she had been his that he kept tucked away in a tiny corner of his heart, one that he never visited and rarely thought about.

The doctor did apologize this time. "Oh. I am sorry for your loss."

Dean cleared his throat and looked at Dr. Monroe. "So, do you know why? What's wrong with me? Can it be fixed? What does this mean, we can't have kids?" Dean set his jaw and stiffened his back a bit, wanting nothing more than to be out of this office, out of the building and back at home, where he could crawl back into their bed, preferably with a very large bottle of something alcoholic and never come out again. Cas squeezed his hand again, and Dean squeezed back, more for something to do with his hand than anything else.

"Well obviously at one point, you were able to father children. Other than this, you are perfectly healthy. It's not because of any illness that we can tell, your blood work is fine, although your cholesterol is a bit high."

Cas muttered something about bacon cheeseburgers under his breath, and the corner of Dean's mouth quirked up in a small smile at this.

"We can't find any illness that might be causing the infertility," the doctor continued, and Dean winced a bit at the use of the word. "There are several reasons other than illness that might cause this. Excessive alcohol use, exposure to hazardous materials, but we can't tell really, with any of the tests we currently have available.

"However, there is some good news."

Both Dean and Cas looked up at this. "There is?" Dean asked.

"You recall that you both gave us samples to test, but requested that we focus only on Dean? Well, Cas's sample was perfect. So, if you are willing, Cas can be the father." The doctor beamed at Cas, whose jaw had dropped open.

"Oh," Dean said, and he couldn't help but feel a huge wave of disappointment sweep over him. Once he'd admitted to himself that this was something he wanted, more than anything, Dean wanted the child to be his.

"What?" Cas asked hoarsely.

"You, Cas, are perfectly healthy, and you can father the child, instead of Dean," said Doctor Monroe. He looked at the two men, realizing that they were probably too stunned about all that he had talked to them to make any decisions right now. "Tell you what. Why don't I see my next couple of appointments, and give you two a while to chat. You are welcome to stay here in my office; I'll make sure that no one disturbs you. Then when I get back, you can let me know what you've decided. It'll be about 30 minutes." As he spoke, the doctor stood and made his way to the door of his office. "Dean, Cas, this can be good news, really." And then the door was shut behind him and they were alone together.

Neither man spoke, the silence hanging heavy in the air while they attempted to process what they had been told. Finally, Cas spoke. "Dean?" his voice was filled with uncertainty, so unlike his usual gruff, assured self.

Dean exhaled with a whoosh, as if he had been waiting for some signal to finally begin breathing again. He bowed his head, examining his and Cas's hands, which were still clasped together in Dean's lap. "I..." he cleared his throat. "It is good news, right?"

Cas squeezed Dean's hand, the force of his grip just this side of painful. "Don't. Please, don't do this to yourself. I know...I know you wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you, but..." Cas trailed off, uncertain what to say.

Dean looked up; unshed tears welling in his eyes, making the green seem even brighter, like newly sprouted grass in the spring. "We can still have our kid, Cas. Isn't that the important thing? It shouldn't matter..."

Cas got off his chair and kneeled before Dean, putting his hands on Dean's thighs. He caught Dean's eyes and refused to break eye contact (he was very, very good at this). "Shouldn't doesn't mean anything here, Dean. You are in pain, and so it does matter."

Dean laughed, although the sound was more of a hybrid between laughter and crying. A few tears streamed down his face as he looked at Cas. "Whether it matters or not, it's not something we can do anything about, not for me, anyway."

Cas looked at Dean, looked at the man he loved and felt a break, a shift in him. Seeing how broken Dean was, when it had been so hard to break this man in the past, Cas ached with shared sorrow. He leaned up and kissed Dean, and then wrapped his arms around him, pulling Dean's head to his shoulder. Dean's arms slid around the angel's waist and then Dean was sobbing, great gulping sobs into Cas's shoulder. Cas held him, stroked his hair and whispered soft, comforting sounds in Dean's ear.

Gradually, Dean stopped crying, feeling wasted and empty. Cas continued to hold Dean; both of them quiet now as they took comfort in the embrace.

"I guess I always thought I'd be able to," Dean said, his face still buried in Cas's shoulder. "To have kids, I mean. Something I took for granted."

"Dean," Cas said tenderly. "You don't have to --"

Dean looked up. "No, Cas, it's okay. You're right, I can't ... I can't keep this inside, because I don't want to bottle it up and hurt our kid when it comes exploding out because I've hidden it."

Cas tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing. "But..."

"Cas, didn't you hear the doctor? You can be the one, you can be the father. We can still have a kid, and..." Dean paused and gave a slightly watery smile. "God Cas, your kid's gonna be gorgeous."

Cas blushed, his face turning pink from chin to the roots of his hair. "Our child, Dean. Ours." His smile was small, secret. "You are beautiful, Dean."

It was Dean's turn to blush. "Cas..." He inhaled. "Do you still want to do this? Are there any...issues with this because you're...you know..." he lowered his voice to a whisper. "An angel?"

"Yes of course I do, Dean. You do remember this was my idea? And I think that if there was a problem with me physically, Dr. Monroe would have said something to us, don't you think?" Cas caressed his thumb across Dean's cheekbone. "Do you still want to do this?"

The question was barely out of Cas's mouth before Dean answered. "Yes. Yes, absolutely. You know me, once I've made a decision... most stubborn man in creation, that's what they say about me." They both laughed quietly at this. "Cas, I can't promise that I'm always going to be okay about this. I may end up having some real asshat moments over the next 9 months." Dean took in a deep breath. "But..."

"I know Dean. I will take your asshat moments for what they are if..."

"When, Cas, you know that. When."

" _If_ they arise," Cas finished.

"Cas, man, I'm not sure that I deserve you."

"Dean, I am certain that you do." Cas kissed Dean's temple.

"Love you," Dean whispered. Cas hummed an assent in response, concentrating instead on holding Dean close to him, using touch and warmth as comfort.

When the doctor returned to his office, this is how he found the couple, and he closed the door quietly behind him, clearing his throat to get their attention. "Have you made a decision?"

Dean and Cas looked at each other. Cas, who had gotten up and was now seated back in his chair, tilted his head at Dean, a silent communication that Dean should be the one to answer the doctor.

"Yeah, doc, we have. If it's to be Cas, then we're ready to go any time you are. We want to start our family as soon as possible."

"Excellent! I'm thrilled to hear it. Cas, if I may, based on our tests, you are probably one of the healthiest people I've had the pleasure of seeing in my office in a long time. You and Dean should have a bouncing baby boy or girl in no time!"

Cas and Dean caught each other's eye and smiled, broad grins, really, as they worked out the details with the doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abigail is from the Hebrew, and it means "joy of the father", which I thought was kind of a good choice for surrogate mom.


	6. You Begin to Make it Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can an Angel of the Lord ...?

There were, or would be, a whole slew of problems with Cas being the biological father of their child, number one being that it should be impossible. This body was a vessel, and while it was just him inside, Jimmy was long gone, Cas's Grace, his essence was not biologically connected to Jimmy's body. Would the child actually be Castiel's? Or would he or she be Jimmy's? Cas didn't even know where to begin worrying, so he instead addressed his focus elsewhere, onto Dean. Focusing on Dean was one of the things at which Cas excelled, and it made Cas happy.

Except now, holding Dean as he cried, now Cas was not happy, because Dean was not happy.

So Cas held Dean as he cried, rocking him back and forth, crooning softly in his ear.

It was as if they were experiencing the loss of a child at the same time as the prospect for a new one joining their family arose.

For Cas, once Dean had calmed down enough to deal directly with the doctor, the rest of their appointment passed in a blur of details and plans that now all had Castiel Winchester written on them instead of Dean Winchester.

They next thing Cas knew, they were out in the street, blinking in the bright sunlight, and Dean was striding toward the car. They drove home in silence, Dean didn't even turn on the radio, and Cas fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket sleeve the whole way.

They pulled into the garage, and Dean turned off the engine, but did not exit the car. They sat, listening to the ticking of the engine as it cooled. The metallic sound grew to fill the space that should have been filled with their words.

Finally, Dean inhaled a shaky breath. "Is it...is it even possible? Would it be...you? He stared straight ahead, through the windshield, hands still at ten and two on the steering wheel.

"I do not know," Cas responded. He turned in his seat to face Dean, willing Dean to return his look, to register Cas's presence with any eye contact.

"If you knew for sure that it wasn't you - Cas you, but Jimmy...Would.... Would you still do it?" It took Dean a long time to work his way up to the question, but Cas had the answer ready immediately, practically before Dean had finished.

"Yes." No hesitation.

Dean did turn then, his expression unreadable. "Really?"

"Yes. We will love the child regardless, and he or she will be ours because we will have raised him or her."

"Her." It was a whisper, almost a prayer.

"Dean, you cannot possibly..." Cas said, astonished.

"I know. I just..." Dean shrugged. "I sort of feel like our baby might be a girl." He moved his shoulders up and down again, an awkward, uncomfortable movement.

Silence again, as they sat in their respective bubbles of contemplation.

"A daughter would be nice," Cas said eventually.

Dean grunted. "We'd have to shoot every boy within a hundred miles when she gets to be a teenager."

"Dean, I do not think that the local authorities would approve of mass murder --"

"Cas, I was kidding," Dean laughed, genuine and clear. "She wouldn't be able to leave the house except for school, anyway."

Cas frowned, but after a pause, his face cleared. "You are making a joke," he said. "You don't really mean to lock our daughter up."

Dean laughed again. "Our hypothetical daughter. And to be honest, I'm not sure that I am joking, Cas. I remember what I was like in high school."

It was Cas's turn to smile. "I remember what you were like 5 years ago, when we first met." Cas leaned over and pressed a light kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth to soften the implied criticism.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said. The banter had the intended effect of lightening the mood. "Cas, will this be okay, with...you know...the folks upstairs?" Dean raised his eyes toward the roof of the car to punctuate what he meant.

Cas mulled on that for a moment, rolling the question around his mind. He did not have an answer to the question, other than to say that he didn't know, but he already felt tired of giving that answer to Dean. He wanted to be sure of something, the way he was so often sure of Dean. "I believe you have a saying: that it is easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. I also believe that you spoke to me about free will. This is me exercising my free will to be with you for the rest of your life, and to raise a child, a son or a daughter, and to be in love and be happy." Cas let his eyes roam over Dean's face and then settle on the other man's bright green eyes. "Whether or not it is okay with the "folks upstairs" as you put it, there are only two people whose opinion matters, and we're both here in this car."

Dean chuckled. "Team Free Will, huh? Having a baby. I like the way that sounds, Cas." He opened the door of the car and stepped over to the other side, opening Cas's door and leaning in with his hand. He beckoned to Cas, who placed his hand in Dean's warmer one. "Come on, Castiel, father to be, let's go inside and celebrate."

\-------

The doctor was as good as his word, and within a few short days, things were all ready to go on their end. All they had to do was wait for Abigail to be ready, and then it really would be all systems go. They had heard so many stories about the procedure not working the first time, or the second or even the tenth, that neither Dean nor Cas slept very well over the next few weeks, waking at odd times in a cold sweat, filled with fear or anxiety about something that they could not quite pinpoint in their half-wakened state. Usually when one of them woke from the nightmares, struggling to breathe, flailing against the loosely draped sheets, the other would be woken too, and he would pull him into his arms and wrap around his back, whispering quiet nonsense sounds into his ear. They would drift off to sleep slowly together, peace of mind flirting just out of reach.

After the initial flurry of activity with more and more doctors, at baby furniture stores, toy stores and book stores, things settled into a lull, as if all the wind had died down and a sailboat was forced into stillness.

The procedure to impregnate Abigail went well, the doctor was enthused, and he said that they would do a pregnancy test in about 14 days.

It was a long two weeks.

Which turned into 15 days, then 16, and by the 17th day, both Dean and Cas were snarling at each other, at Sam, at anyone who spoke to them. Cas threatened to smite a cashier at the grocery store when he asked if Cas wanted paper or plastic. The cashier used paper after Dean had ushered the irritable angel out of the store tossing apologies over his shoulder as they went. Luckily Sam was with them, and he finished the transaction and bagged most of the groceries himself while the cashier tried to recollect his wits about him before the evening rush.

Thankfully, they got two phone calls before the hour was out. The first from Abigail, saying that she was pretty sure that she was pregnant, and the second from Dr. Monroe, confirming that indeed, Abigail was pregnant, and they could expect their baby in October.

Cas and Dean were all smiles and were seriously schmoopy over each other for the next few days, to the point where Sam wanted to stab his eyes out with a fork.

The pregnancy was uneventful, as Abigail was very healthy, and as the doctor had said, Cas was probably one of the healthiest patients he'd seen in a long while. The baby was fine, more than fine, and each time they went for a checkup, the doctor raved about the health of both of the parents. Dean would have sulked in the corner if he hadn't realized just how important this point was, for their child's sake.

Dean was still certain it would be a girl, while Cas was certain that it was going to be a boy. Abigail tried not to have an opinion, although she secretly agreed with Cas.

And then finally, it was October, and the daylight hours grew shorter while the leaves turned colors as they all began the final wait.

On October 20, at about 4 in the morning, they were woken by the ringing of Dean's cell phone, which he had taken to keeping on his pillow while he slept. "'Lo?" he said sleepily.

It was Abigail. "Dean! It's time."

 

~Fin~


End file.
